COLD
by alythia
Summary: Even with a warm body lying beside him, heating his own under the pristine light of the five moons, Wolfwood still felt cold. Wolfwood's POV


Disclaimer: ... Except for my PC, I have no valuable possession whatsoever. Even my handphone somehow ended up with the laundry and into the washing machine a few months back. _(shrugs)_ NO. WAY. I could afford these three characters I used in this fic. XP

Spoilers: Trigun Maximum Manga, Vol 8, ch 2.

Beta: ... is **currently searching for a beta** that would read and correct typos, grammars, phrasing, etc errors for my **M/R/over-18-rated fics**... _(and mumbles about not wanting to ruin Alaena Night's innocence...)_

_(The author pokes at the readers for potential betas, pouting cutely.) (Vash pokes at readers as well, also pouting cutely.) (Wolfwood grabs the cutely pouting Tongari by the scuff of the neck and slips his tongue all over and between the wedges of the cutely pouting lips)_

_O.O ... (aaaaand the author wonders if she should keep on pouting or gawk at the presently-making-out duo, that involve saliva dribbling and heavy patting by the perverted preacher and lots and lots of appreciative moaning from the needle noogin'...Pouting approvingly won't be so bad. XD )_

A/N: Numerous use of the word "Fuck". You have been warned.

This fic has no relation at all with Crossfade's _Cold_, thank you _very much_... Tempted. But really, it won't work with this story...

How too much rambutans (the small, red, hairy fruit thingy that grows on trees) can make you cranky. :P

This fic has been molding in my hard disk for the last five months, with me revisiting it a few thousand times this past half-year for the usual cleaning and upgrading ...took me this long to write up a fairly decent fic, huh... _(glooms...)_ Time to hang up the beans(?)...

Oh, and drive SLOWLY at ANY curve after a rain, even if it's only a drizzle. Or else, you'd end up in hell lotsa trouble involving dented sign posts, scraped décor trees, ruined Volk Beetles, haranguing traffic officers, accident-friendly pick-up men, fuming daddies, cancelled movie dated, two years in house arrest, and a lifetime's worth of driving traumas. _(sweats)_

It always felt so cold every time I recalled that incident... _(brrr!)_

Let the COLD ensue! X3

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_**COLD**_

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It was cold.

Even though I have a warm body, naked beside me; sated from all the heat and pleasure he derived from our union. Under the same blanket, under the same dark sky, under the same five moons...

It still felt so fucking cold.

I was almost sitting upright, would have if not for this person snuggling even closer at my every move, even burying his face into my chest. He really loved touching, huh? Even in his sleep, he needed more physical contact... Wasn't he satisfied with all the touching we did that night? And the night before? And the night before that?

Did he even care who he was touching? Would anyone be good to him?

_Not just me?_

I grabbed onto the nearest bottle of Wild Turkey I could reach, just to find out that it was already empty. Yeah, right. I used this one on him tonight. A little something to get him in the mood, something to lick on from all over his body, as lubricant... I knew that I should have towed away the hand lotion complementary of the hotel we stayed at that last town. But he would just say that I was acting like a sissy.

Ah, shit... Now, I remember. That was the last bottle I had. Now I hafta wait for God-knows till when to get another drink. With walking in this fucking desert, you could never know when you'd arrive at another town. It may even take days, weeks, even months if we were unlucky enough to get lost in this fucking endless sea of sand

But really, having sex with him really was much more exciting than drinking a dozen bottles of the finest alcohols. And after that, you won't get a hangover and you'd feel much, much better. Isn't that convenient?

Yah. Convenient. He's a walking Sex on Legs. And I was given the responsibility by You-Know-Who to be there by his side; always.

Absolute-fucking-ly convenient.

But I still need a drink right now. Coz I'm cold. Really cold. I just couldn't stand the coldness.

I need the drink to keep me warm. To keep me warm in this icy wilderness. To keep me _sane_...

"Mmmmh..."

I shifted a little as I replaced the empty glass container on the dry sand, which stirred him from his sleep; not enough to wake him up, but succeeded in making him cuddle even closer to me, wrapping him arm even tighter onto my waist. Like he wasn't going to ever let me go, even in his sleep...

_Am I really that important to you?_

I silently snickered. That couldn't be. You only see me as a replacement. As a substitute. As a stand-in.

For _him_.

Tonight, you yelled his name _yet_ _again_ as you climaxed. Did you even notice you were shouting out his name when _I_ as the one pleasuring you? Did you...?

Fuck. This just brought back bad memories...

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_( 80 HOURS AFTER THE JENORA ROCK CRISIS ) _

_I was panting and chocking like crazy._

_Even with my gun pointed at him, I couldn't shoot. Hell, I couldn't even move my trigger finger._

_I just couldn't fire that one shot._

_That unbelievably overwhelming feeling of oppression..._

_Those icy blue orbs peered at me – eating at me – through the cascade of long undulating hair and transparent fluid. That smile felt like it didn't belong to be on that face eerily familiar to me..._

_I think I was realizing... how much I wanted to live._

_Then I hear that voice, with such rich and tantalizing baritone... so alike his._

"_So, you're with the Eye of Michael? If you are, you should keep to the contract and obey me. I will continue on with my dear brother just as before... Reach him... Guard him... and bring him to the end without any further damage..."_

_That humanoid creature propelled himself upwards with his arms as support, out of the gel-like concoction._

_Hearing to him chuckling suddenly, unexpectedly, I trembled even more; if that was ever possible._

"_Ah, yes. Another reminder to you."_

_As he made eye contact again, I was at my self-control limit. I was torn to either stay and hear his sermons or just kill myself with my own gun. The second option was very tempting though... No human could ever keep their sanity by looking into his calculatingly cold eyes for long..._

"_My brother is very hard to satisfy. Remember, nothing is ever overboard in our vocabulary when it comes to pleasure. Try your best to sate his hunger, if you can. Get it?"_

_Cold sweat was running down my face and neck. My eyes were locked with his; I couldn't move my whole body, much less to speak out a reply to his query._

_The silver blonde demon frowned disapprovingly since I didn't give him an immediate answer. More out of fear than comprehension, I hastily nodded my head erratically._

_Smugly satisfied with my reply, he reclined onto the wall of his life-giving pool; sitting at the shallow bottom with his back onto the wall, facing me, smiling that freaky smirk of his. "Good to know that we understood each other. I expect a splendid performance from you. Do not disappoint me. You may leave now."_

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Long after that, I figured out the implication of what he ordered me to do.

He wanted me to have sex with his brother.

And not just some simple ones like getting on a bed and slapping together of flesh on flesh in a search of selfish releases. No way. Nothing was that simple when it came to these two...

No. It involved blood. _Lots_ of blood. And blades, when he requested for them. He liked doing it rough and hard, and every time we did it, he'd bleed. Whips, chains, belts, muzzles; anything that could inflict pain. Coz he liked it. Coz he derived most of the pleasure from the pain itself. Coz through pain, he'd feel he was still there. That he was still alive... He could do it at just anywhere: in hidden alleyways, behind a garbage dump, on dirty floors, on the harsh sandy dunes... he didn't care. When he wanted it, I have to give it to him. Anyway, it was my responsibility, and somehow, he knew it as well.

...Had his brother be the one introducing him to all these? Heh. That explained the blades...

I was mortified when I first saw all the mutilation under the skin-tight suit he wore most of the time. I was sickened of myself, to be the one adding to the scars onto his body. I felt miserable, for tallying up his pain. I was in dismay, beyond redemption; to have inflicted him with the irreversible grief of doing something this sacred with a person he didn't love...

He bled so much. I wonder if his heart was bleeding as well...

After a few times doing it his way, I threw away all of those sex toys and did it _my_ way.

I took him, with only my talented techniques in bed to aid me. I took him: Fierce, but gentle. Violent, but controlled. Powerful, but tender.

Contradictory deeds for one contradictory asshole. (In every meaning of the word)

Slowly, but surely, I pulled him away from those dangerous eroticism plays, avoiding any possibility of drawing blood, and somehow managed to make him pleased nonetheless. Even though it took more time for him to reach his climax, I made sure that he obtained most satisfaction out of these so-called _normal_ joinings.

And nothing made me happier than have him snoozing away, not bleeding, not whimpering in his sleep because of the pain. ...Or not?

No, I'm not happy. Not happy at all.

Coz he still called out for that goddamn fucking _brother_ of his in his moments of ecstasy. Not only one time. Not twice. But each and every fucking time _I_ fucked him. Every time he was blinded with desire and bliss, his ears would turn deaf to everything; even to his own voice. Right then, he'd yell out that hateful name.

_Knives._

Over and over again.

How could not my blood run cold hearing _that_?

But, as it was my duty, I still gave him his so needed pleasure almost every night that we were together, just the two of us. But every time I did so, I felt like I was fucking an empty automation. A hollow puppet; which its only purpose of doing it with me repeatedly was to search the legitimacy of his existence. Only that and nothing more; but could be _much less_...

He didn't really need me to do that for him. He did it with me just because I'm here beside him. Coz it was convenient.

_Convenient..._

I was still suffering from the icy cold chillness of the desert night.

His skin was warm and hot, in contradiction to the draftiness of the metal bolts and grates all over his body.

I fingered those strange extrusions on his skin with. They were so cold... Maybe this chillness I felt from him came from these...? No... No... that's impossible. He was the most warm and fuzzy guy I ever met. Surely, he would share his body heat with me as well, right? Coz lately, my heart felt like it was slowly turning to ice...

Hey, Tongari. Is this how you felt, every time someone turned you away? When you desperately needed their attention... When you desperately needed their recognition of yourself... When you desperately needed their acceptance...?

...Then, would you accept me...? Coz I sincerely need you to...

Is there any more space in that broken heart of yours for another to fit in? Could you accept me as a true companion? Would you see us just as fuck friends, or are we a bit more than that? Could we, in all the impossibility, be real lovers...?

I patted his head, and ruffles at his hair softly; not that it needs any more ruffling to get any less spikier. Earlier that night, when I ran my fingers harshly through the surprisingly silky spikes as I passionately kissed him, the though of 'I ruined his hair again' wafted through my head quite sadistically. Feeling the contact of my hand on him, he purred in his sleep; somehow appreciatively at the attention I was giving to him. The small rumble of his neck sent shivers throughout my body.

So... cold...

_How could you torment me like this...? _

Worst still, you're doing it unknowingly. I couldn't really blame you for that...

Every time after we did... these arrangements we do all the time, I struggled at getting any sleep. During those restless times, I thought long and hard about telling you the truth after you wake up come morning. Of what I think you thought of me...

But, every time you did wake up, you gave me that sweetest heartbreaking smile, and my resolution I built the night before would shatter.

And the cycle would repeat itself every time... _every_ _time_...

I rubbed onto my face, easing the tensioning muscles as I dug deeper and deeper into my own dark rumination.

How could I ever let you know...? I couldn't let that broken heart of yours smashed to millions of pieces... I could not let myself to be the one to finally ruin that wrecked soul of yours... You've endured through enough pain...

_I've_ _endured through enough pain..._

I rolled our bodies on the dull covering, with mine on top of his and my hand pillowing his head. Our faces were only inches apart. I ghosted his peaceful sleeping visage with my finger, tracing and remembering every bit of details; of everything about him.

One of these days, would he call out my name? Those times he whispered and moaned out my name didn't count, because those were _before_ his moments of total pleasure; because they didn't reflect what he really wanted from our encounters. I was hopeful, I was desperate; that one of these days, that as he climaxed tonight, he would at last say my name...

He didn't.

And it was tearing my heart to pieces, this act alone. Or the lack of it.

_I just couldn't go on like this much longer..._

A sole droplet escaped the dams of my eyelids.

It landed onto the base of his left eye, touching momentarily on his beauty mark, and flowed down his cheek. My eyes followed the trail of the lost tear down to his ear. I laced my fingers within his strangely soft hair, silently wondering if I could ever turn back time. To a time when we were still good buddies. Before... _this_ transpired between us...

_Maybe... just maybe... it would have been better for both of us... if I hadn't fallen for you..._

More tears fell.

I slowly slipped my other arm underneath his unmoving body, careful not to wake him up. I placed my face between the junctions of his neck, not letting the beads of clear salty water to come in touch with his skin, breathing deeply onto his musky scent of sweat and gunpowder. Hugging him tightly but softly as humanly possible, ignoring the stings of coldness of metals, a sharp contra to his warm skin...

Trying to control myself from breaking down even more. Trying to find myself in all this confusion. Trying to find the reasoning to everything...

_Why am I still so cold? _

Please... warm my body, warm my heart, warm my soul...

My Angel of Death...

_Vash..._

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End file.
